Graveyard Of Feelings
by shockin'blueeyes
Summary: After Fred's death, his heart had become a graveyard of feelings, all dead since the second fred's eyes stared right through him, not seeing him, or anything else for that matter.


Written for Flitwick's prompt of the day with the prompt 'graveyard'

Disclaimer: I don't own anything

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He lied between two tombstones in the graveyard, his eyes gazing at the starred sky. The only light seemed to come from the white tombstones, all sporting different names.

To his right, engraved on the white marble, was his brother's name, and to his left, his former teacher of Defence Against the Dark Arts.

He ran a hand trough the grass, still gazing at the sky and trying to dissipate the numb feeling that choked his heart. The numb feeling that had been there since he saw Fred's vacant eyes staring right through him, not seeing him, or anything else for that matter.

The graveyard of feelings that was now his heart, killed by guilt, the guilt that cursed through his veins and blurred his vision, not letting him to get comfort in tears or alcohol. Nothing worked with guilt, but he had yet to give up. He remembered his life before war, before his professional ambitions broke his relationship with his own family, and even with the teasing and the pestering about him, he had felt loved and at ease with himself. Nothing compared to now. Sure, his family still loved him, and his mother, once she got over Fred's death, had been delighted to have him again near her, but it wasn't quite the same anymore.

No one seemed to notice, but he was corroded by guilt. Maybe if he hadn't been joking around, maybe if he had been paying more attention to his surroundings, maybe he could have avoided the tragedy, maybe he could have died instead. After all, he was just one, he was single, and nobody apart from his family would have missed him. Fred, on the other hand, had lots of good friends, friends that missed him, and he had George, who had never been the same since the Battle. How could he be the same, when a part of him had died?

Truth be told, Percy didn't think he even deserved to feel so bad. That was reserved to George. Percy hadn't been there for the last two years, and he had just come back to his family in time to hold his brother while he died. Sometimes he wished he wouldn't have come back at all. Maybe if he hadn't come back… Another maybe, another if… There were always new possibilities, new things to feel guilty for.

And he couldn't stand it anymore. He had run from the party held at the Burrow a while ago, unnoticed by everyone, who were too busy getting drunk and remembering good times to realise that Percy wasn't there. It didn't matter, the party will surely be better off without the uptight and angsty Weasley brother. Even George, even if he wasn't quite the same, was moderately cheerful! (Though that might have been the result of finally getting with Angelina Johnson)

So he had run from the party and apparated to the graveyard, situated a pair of miles away from Hogwarts, in a quiet hill surrounded by green grass and beautiful trees, overlooking the Black Lake. It was truly an incredible site, and it would be a perfect place for a picnic, but the pure white, almost ethereal square tombstones placed in neat rows were the silent witness of the tragedy that lied six feet underground the prairie, the tragedy that torn families and hearts two years ago.

He had lied near Fred's tomb, a hand grazing his name and the other clutching at the grass. It was damn peaceful there, that was true, but the peace never reached his heart.

He wasn't even sure he had a heart anymore. Maybe it died with his feelings. Maybe…

'Sir?' he still gazed at the sky, not acknowledging the soft female voice that had come somewhere to his left. He heard footsteps, and the next second a dark silhouette cut his view of the night sky. 'Sir? Are you okay?' the voice seemed concerned, but then again, he didn't move. A soft hand shook his shoulder.

'Hey, snap out of it!' he turned his eyes to look at the girl, but in the darkness he barely could make out her features. Slowly he sat up, one of his hands still grazing Fred's name. The girl seemed to notice it, because she asked.

'Are you Fred's brother?' he nodded. The girl stood up from her crouching position and held out a hand, but he stood up by his own. He had come to know over the course of the past two years that physical touching during peaks of mourning often led to crying, and it was the last thing he needed right now.

'What are you doing here?' he asked out of the blue. His voice was strangely hoarse.

'George sent me' the girl said, and he looked at her, startled.

'George?'

'I'm Audrey, her new assistant at the shop. He asked me to come and get you. He said you'll be here' Percy stared again at the tombstone of Fred and then at the girl. He didn't even know George had hired a new assistant, and he was the closest one of his brothers now, as impossible as that may seem. The circumstances of… the Battle drew them closer, and even if he hadn't told anyone, Percy suspected George knew about his massive guilt complex.

'Oh, okay.' He mumbled, following Audrey as they got through the tombs. They walked down the edge of the hill, but she didn't dissaparate nor turn to look if he was following her. She just sat on the edge, overlooking the dark sky night, which was slowly but surely beginning to tinge with pink. He doubted for a second before sitting besides her.

'Aren't you supposed to get me back to the Burrow?' he asked, and she turned to look at him.

'Do you want me to?' he shook his head, and she just looked back in front of her, where the Black Lake and the castle were now clearly visible. She was too, and when the first sun rays finally hit them, he realised he had in fact seen her at the party at the Burrow. Well, it wasn't really a surprise, nearly half the magic community was there.

Realising that he had been staring at her, he quickly looked away, but rather out of education that embarrassment. He didn't feel anything, remember?

'I don't know what is like to loose someone so near to you, but I think maybe it's time to let it go, don't you think?' she suddenly said.

'I don't know how to' he replied mutely. It was true. Even George had learned how to let go.

'Talking often helps' she simply said.

And it must help, because by the end of the next month, Percy Weasley was able to hold Audrey's hand when he went to visit Fred's grave and not burst into tears, and by the end of the year he believed in God and resurrection, because, really, there was no other explanation as to why his heart was suddenly full of life again.

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